Knightmares
by mystic's oblivion
Summary: Reid, nightmares, and mys wanting a mushy comfort fic... ReidOther pairing ...no one we know... sorry guys it's not even Mer, lol
1. Chapter 1

Knightmares

by Mystic's Oblivion

DISCLAIMER: Criminal Minds and its characters are in no way mine, and, assuming you don't count my borderline obsession with it, I have absolutely notta to do with the show or CBS or anything else related.

Ashlyn is my creation.

Chapt 1: Cry in the Night

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It was dark, darker than a place like this should be. She turned a full 180 trying to get her bearings. That's when she saw him, saw the look in his eyes- a look she knew all too well, a look that brought out her most primal fears.

Her breathing was ragged, she was beginning to hyperventilate but fought for control of her mind and body. She pushed her way through the crowds of people, finding gaps and openings by instinct and luck as much as intention. She knew there was a place she could stop and breath, if she could only get to it.

She heard it before she saw it. The music of a pipe organ was growing clearer as she drew closer to the final obstacle between herself and salvation. Daring a look behind her, her heart jumped, those eyes were still upon her, following her, taking advantage of every opening and every path she'd made in her attempt to escape.

With blind fear she charged forward, pushing her way through the gridlock of people.

There it was- the carousel, she saw it and almost froze, terror building on terror. It meant she was almost there, one final push and she could reach her goal. Her mind raced; she didn't have time for this, not now. There was one way she knew she could get past this. It was a course that held certain pain and overwhelming sorrow, but to get away, to escape, was worth it. She stopped fighting and allowed her fear to turn to anger, letting adrenaline carry her ignoring everything else.

Finally she made it, she was safe. He couldn't possibly have caught up with her. Forcing herself to breath once more, she leaned against the wall- snuggling into the safety of a nook made where a bank of phones almost met the intersection of two walls.

As predicted, the pain and self-loathing of releasing her anger began to take over, tears trickled from her closed eyes. When she opened them she saw him in front of her and she tried to scream. She felt the air rush from her lungs and her vocal-cords ache with the effort, but she couldn't hear the sound. Ducking under the phone stalls she attempted another scream, and another. Her throat burned painfully, but as the fists began to pound against her, she let out one last terrified scream…

…it echoed through the building, rattling off walls and piercing sleepers' dreams. The bloodcurdling terror-filled scream could have easily awoken the dead, as it was it did wake Dr. Spencer Reid.

He listened intently as he rolled out of bed and reached for his cell phone. As he threw on clothes he dialed 911 and waited for an operator to answer.

"911 What's the nature of your emergency?"

"Unknown. I know it's rather cliché but there was literally a bloodcurdling scream. I believe it came from the apartment below me."

"Your location, sir?"

Reid obligingly gave the operator his name, address, et cetera- he was pleasantly surprised at the change of the operator's tone when she discovered he was with the FBI. Of course the operator promised someone would be there shortly, but, however you looked at it, this was still a Friday night in metropolitan D.C. so shortly could mean anytime before noon Saturday.

While he had been on the phone Reid kept alert for any other tell-tale sounds that could possibly indicate what had happened. There were none. No footsteps, hushed voices, crashes, nothing. His quick mind examined probable scenarios while his body was already heading out the door. The scream that woke him could've come from one of his own vivid nightmares- the thought that it had even floated past his mind for an instant, but just as quickly as he had woke he knew it hadn't. Whoever had released that scream needed help- even if it was only someone telling them they weren't alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapt 2: Knight Errant

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(Knock, knock, knock)

Silence

(Knock, knock, knock)

Noise. Rustling. Movement.

"Hello?"

The solid door cracked open slightly offering Reid a view of striking deep green eyes. Even bloodshot and obviously frightened they were captivating.

Finding his voice, "Sorry to bother you, but there was…"

"I'm alright," a soft shaky voice cut in.

Hearing the uncertainty in her voice and seeing the fear in her eyes, her was more than a little skeptical of her initial response. "The police will probably be by to check on you."

Her eyes widened making the deep green seem to flare for an instant. "You called them?"

"I had to… …you're sure you're okay?"

Her beautiful eyes cast downwards as her face pressed into the door, "I just… It was a nightmare… I'm fine." She knew he didn't believe her but he didn't press the matter.

Instead, he gave her a concerned scrutiny followed by a curt nod, ending with, "Alright," as he turned away.

He'd only traveled a few steps when her voice, a little stronger now, called, "Thank you."

He stopped and turned. The door had opened further to expose a bit more of the owner of the voice.

Dark brown hair cascaded in waves over her shoulders with just enough fire red to give it a rich burgundy shine. Her face was full and strong like Elle's but with the smooth lines he admired in J.J.

A quirky smile graced his lips, "My pleasure." Staring down at his bare feet for a moment he added, "I'm right above you if you need… anything… talk… whatever…"

When she nodded in acknowledgement Spencer got a quick look at one of the brightest and most honest smiles he'd ever seen.

As he made his way back to his own apartment he found himself admiring the strength of someone who could feel so much heart-wrenching hurt and still possess such a smile.

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As she closed the door, she realized she didn't even know who her white knight was. He had to be a white-knight- in all her years, all her nightmares, all her screams in the night no-one, not even her lovers, had offered such selfless concern. He actually called the cops- the thought made her smile and lifted her spirits; someone out there still cared about people. _Hell, _she thought, _he probably tilts at windmills. too._

Breaking out of her reverie, she forced herself to start coffee, if the police were coming she could at least be hospitable, and in the morning she'd have to find out more about her knight.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapt 2: Knight Errant Chapt 3: Extending on Invitation

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She was always better with books than people but she wanted to know more about the man she met last night. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

It opened quicker than she expected, catching her off guard. "Hi," she was sure she sounded like an imbecile.

"Hello."

The man standing in front of her now was quite a contrast to the one in light-weight gray sweats from the night before- khaki dress slacks, brown loafers, cream and tan plaid short-sleeved dress shirt with a questionable brown tie (though the colors did bring out his eyes), even his satchel was a muted brown. The overall affect was as if he wanted to be as invisible as possible; he could easily fade into the background in that costume.

"Um, bad timing?" she asked, hoping her warring feelings of relief and anxiety at the answer weren't glaringly obvious.

"Actually, I was on my way out- got called in…"

_Well, that explained the get-up._ "Off to tilt at more windmills, I bet," she muttered more to herself than to him.

"Pardon?" the curiosity plain on his face.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to thank you again for last night… and apologize for disturbing you, too."

"There's no need. It was the least I could do."

His voice seemed shaky, not scared but like someone struggling for the right words. In her mind's eye she could imagine him going over everything he said before he said it- though that obviously wasn't his normal state; he would have been better at it if it was.

"I really did just want to say thanks." _Come on woman bite the bullet and ask_, she chided herself and before she could think about it further the words came in a rush, "I thought, maybe I could fix you dinner or something… sometime." God, she felt like a fool, probably looked it, too. She'd barely had any sleep and had chosen comfort over style in her wardrobe- denim and a tank top- and her hands were shoved deep in her back pockets to keep them from playing with her hair.

"That's really not necessary."

"No, it's not, but I'd feel better. Next week sometime?"

She swallowed hard when he didn't answer and decided to end the conversation before it became any more awkward. Offering up her best 'I did not just make a fool out of myself' smile, she turned to go calling over her shoulder, "Just let me know. I know you know where I live."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapt 4: To Each His Dulcinea

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On his way into work his thoughts were preoccupied, not with the case but with the strange young woman living a flight down from him. The invitation was sweet but with the work schedule of the BAU he doubted he'd be able to find an acceptable time for both of them and even if he could she would probably have forgotten about it- if she even meant it.

All thoughts of the mystery woman left his head as he and the rest of the team gathered and work on the case sped into full swing.

It wasn't until they were on the plane returning to D.C. that Reid's thoughts had the time to return to his neighbor. He was still at odds with himself as to what, if anything, to do about her invite. On one hand, she was a virtual stranger and he never was good with people; on the other, well that was the problem, there really wasn't a logical other hand. But she was beautiful and more than a little intriguing. Maybe that was reason enough.

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Reid had been so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to notice the intensity with which his friend and mentor, Jason Gideon, was watching him. That changed when a small patch of turbulence jostled the plane.

Gideon didn't try to disguise the fact that he had been studying his young colleague. "You want to talk about it?" was all he said.

Reid's brow wrinkled as he brought his eyebrows together and pursed his lips, not sure whether to take him up on the talk or be mad at being found out.

"You don't have to, but you know I'm always here," Gideon added, knowing it would calm Reid.

When no answer was forthcoming Gideon turned his attention to his almost forgotten book.

After a few moments, Reid broke the mutual silence, "I met a girl the other night."

Gideon allowed himself a visible smirk, "What's she like?"

Reid half chuckled as he exhaled, a boyish smile covering his face as his cheeks flushed slightly, "I have no idea."

Answering Gideon's raised eyebrow, he told him about the surreal encounter and subsequent offer of dinner. When he'd finished his tale, he ran his long fingers through his hair and stared out the plane's tiny window, "You see my problem?"

Moving from the stoic pose he'd adopted while listening to Reid, Gideon leaned forward smiling a warm yet mischievous smile, "Actually, Spencer, I don't."

That comment caused Reid to snap his head back from the window to stare at his companion with wide eyes.

Seeming oblivious to Spencer's response, Gideon continued, "Though I would suggest you find out the name of your Dulcinea."

Reid tried to force a smile, an act he wasn't very good at- his cheek muscles went the right way, so did the center of his thin lips, but the corners of his mouth never seemed to co-operate, always showing his true confusion is such situations; odd since he could pull off so many other feelings and expressions when the need arose, Hotch could testify to that.

The two men sat in silence for the rest of the trip. One lost in a book, the other lost in thought.

'Your Dulcinea' the phrase echoed in Spencer's mind; he liked the sound of it and some of the connotations- the others he tried not to think about, let alone try to analyze.

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By the time Reid finally made it home it was Wednesday, not by much but still it was Wednesday. Dropping his satchel to the floor as he entered his apartment, he made his way to the bathroom for a hot shower. Then he planned to reacquaint himself with his bed.

That night he dreamt, but not his usual nightmares. He dreamed about 'Dulcinea' and those thoughts and ideas he avoided on the plane. Dulcinea, the beautiful nameless woman he'd met just 5 days before, who seemed to think of him as some kind of guardian. Dulcinea, Alonzo Quejana's image of virtue and femininity. It was this latter aspect that put him on edge, that brought unwanted questions into his sleep-clouded mind. It wasn't a comfortable comparison for someone with the issues he had in his immediate family.

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One flight below, Reid's Dulcinea was having dreams of her own. Scattered, fragmented dreams of carousels, playgrounds, eyes filled with hate, and a voice. A concerned soothing disembodied voice; a voice that helped keep the dreams bearable.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapt 5: Defining a Dream

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It was a relatively calm day at BAU headquarters in Quantico as the adrenaline build up from the weekend's case ebbed and left the team in various crash states. Case notes and paperwork were the order of the day, so it was with little surprise that by 3 o'clock the BAU computer screens showed varying stages of FreeCell, Minesweeper, Spider Solitaire, or other digital distractions.

For Spencer Reid his need for distraction was two-fold; one he shared with his co-workers. The other was Dulcinea. He was going to at least talk to her and if all went well he would accept her invitation, but that was tonight when he was away from here. He had no intention of letting the others know about his mystery woman, at least not until he knew her name.

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Once again he found himself standing at the door to the apartment below his. This time however his nerves were on edge for decidedly different reasons. He'd considered retreating to his own apartment with every step, and now he was considering it again.

Finally, he knocked on her door. Just as before there was no answer to his staccato rapping. He knocked again. Still no answer. _Great, I actually do this and no one's home_. Reid silently wondered if he'd have the nerve to come back later or if he should even bother. Memories of last night's dreams assaulted him accompanied by the dark fears the generated. _No,_ he would come by later, if only to prove to his traitorous subconscious that she was real and **not** that kind of Dulcinea! With that decided he made his way towards his own abode only to confronted with the very subject of his thoughts.

She was dressed much the same as the last time he saw her, save for the unbuttoned black dress shirt over her maroon tank top and the heavily laden backpack on her shoulder. When she saw him her smile seemed to brighten and unless he was terribly mistaken her cheeks flushed.

"Hey, I was beginning to think you hadn't taken me seriously," her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

As he thought how close to correct she was, Spencer felt the flush coming over his own face and his body reacted to her presence of it's own accord. "Yeah, sorry about that. We only got back last night."

'We', she wondered who 'we' was but forced herself not to ask. She opted for a safer, "Oh, any place interesting?"

"It may have been. We didn't exactly have time to play tourist."

"Business trip," she rolled her eyes in understanding and offered a silent 'thank you' to the powers that be.

"Yeah."

"So, you here about dinner?" she asked as she adjusted her bag.

"If the offer's still available."

She looked slightly shocked, "Of course it is! But could we talk about it inside? I really need to get this monkey off my back."

"Oh, sure. Here, let me take it."

_Chivalrous as usual_, she said to herself. To him, "I don't think you really want to- it's a bit heavy."

Even as she said the words, Reid was removing the hefty load from her shoulders.

"What's in here the entire Encyclopedia Britannica?"

She laughed as she replied, "No, but close- textbooks."

"You're a student?" Reid was surprised and pleased at the idea.

"Guilty," she said as she opened the door, "for the next few months anyway." Entering the apartment, "Come on in. I don't think anything in here bites." She set her keys on the table inside the door, "Just drop that anywhere. Can I get you something to drink?" she asked as she headed for the kitchen.

For some reason the question startled him, "No, no thanks." Spencer cleared his throat self-consciously, "So what are you studying?"

Returning with a can of diet soda she plopped down on the couch. "I'm working on my MLS at Catholic."

"You're a librarian?" The incredulity in his voice was apparent.

"Soon, and technically I'll be a research librarian."

"Nice," a genuine smile on his face as he realized he was with a fellow geek- albeit a beautiful one. "So, about dinner…"

"Right. You probably have plans for the weekend, so how about Monday?"

Almost sheepishly, fidgeting with his hands and looking down causing his light brown locks to fall into his face, "actually, I don't. Have plans, I mean."

It was her turned to look startled, "Really?"

Looking up for a brief moment, "Really." Spencer summoned up his courage for his next question, which came out in just one word, "You?"

"I'm a librarian, remember. Of course I don't have plans, unless you count that," she flipped a hand toward her bag on the floor.

Reid smiled a giddy schoolboy smile, "There was a time when I would."

She laughed. "How 'bout tomorrow then?"

"That'd be great, well, unless something comes up at work."

That got a quizzical look out of her. "You must be important to your office."

"I wouldn't say that."

Deciding the topic would make good dinner discussion, she chose not to pursue it just yet. Instead, she cocked her head, "Well, tomorrow then. Around 8 good for you?"

"Fine. I guess I'll see you then." He moved towards the door, ready to make a hasty exit before his rising blood pressure caused his heart to explode or other parts of his anatomy got similar ideas.

Getting up from her position on the couch, "Wait a minute." She walked up to him and looked deep into his eyes, "What's your name?"

He'd completely forgotten about the names; he'd been too consumed by dinner arrangements. "Spencer. Reid." his voice was breathy as he took in her scent and felt her closeness.

"Spencer," she smiled as she said it. "Well, Spencer Reid I'm Ashlyn Lieman."

"Ashlyn?"

She let out a small chuckle, "Yes. Look it up and I'll see you tomorrow."

She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek as he left.

Just as the door closed she heard Spencer's voice call out, "Dream."

Ashlyn grinned wider than she had in ages- he was noble, smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and tomorrow night he was having dinner with her.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapt 6: Seeing is Believing

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Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid was positively buoyant when he arrived in the bullpen the following morning. A state that Morgan could not let escape without comment. "What happened to you, Spencer? You are way to chipper today. Hey Elle, check it out."

Reid merely smiled knowingly at his friend as he set his satchel by his desk and asked, "Boss in his office?"

Looking more than a little lost at Spencer's reaction, or lack thereof, Morgan replied, "uh, yeah, I think so."

Nodding Reid headed for Gideon's office.

Pointing a finger at Reid's retreating form, "What just happened?"

"I think he blew you off," Elle patted his shoulder sympathetically, but didn't attempt to hide her humored smile, "and you said 'chipper'." As she returned to her desk, and more importantly her coffee, she could hear Morgan mumbling in response- probably wondering how long it would take him to live it down.

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He could see Gideon was in his office, but as always he knocked anyway.

"Come in," Gideon responded before even looking up from his papers. Upon seeing Reid and taking in the obvious excitement he was barely containing, and his quirky smile that could've lit the room, "I take it you found out her name."

"Ashlyn," as he sat down he added, "it means dream."

Gideon clasped his hands in front of him, half hiding his own broad smile- his protege was growing up, again. Less than a year ago he hadn't even had a proper date; now he was sitting in his office talking about a girl and looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. "Appropriate." Gideon patiently waited for Reid to offer further information.

"She's a student at Catholic, working on her MLS." Sheepish self-consciousness was beginning to overtake Reid as the lower part of his face began to turn a soft pink. "We're having dinner tonight."

Reid was graced with one of Gideon's pleasant lopsided grins as he slowly nodded approvingly. "Let's hope nothing big comes up then."

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Thankfully for Spencer and the world at large 'nothing big' did (or rather didn't) come up. The biggest challenge he faced was Morgan and his persistent inquires about Reid's mood; it was a challenge he was more than up to. It gave he a bizarre pleasure to be able to keep Morgan at bay.

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Reid was lost in paperwork when Gideon approached him, "It's after 5; go home."

He tore himself from his papers when the older man spoke. "I was going to…"

Gideon raised a hand cutting him off and dismissing the comment. "It'll still be here Monday. Now get out of here and enjoy yourself."

As he strode off, Gideon began whistling and Spencer couldn't suppress his laughter or the flush consuming his face as the tune hit home- "Dulcinea" from Man of LaMancha.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapt 7: Dining with Dreams

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"Hi. I hope I'm not too early or anything."

"No, of course not. Come on in." Ashlyn eyed her guest as he entered. _God, he gets more gorgeous every time I see him._ "I was just working on the salad."

"Can I do anything?"

"Sure," she smirked a mischievous smirk, "you can keep me company." With that she strolled off to the kitchen.

"Is that manicotti? Smells wonderful. It's interesting that even with manicotti being the American term it still has an Italian translation; though I've always preferred cannelloni."

"Yes, 'big reeds' does make much more since than 'muffs', besides that makes me think I should be wearing dinner instead of eating it." She stopped in mid-chop, ignoring her tomatoes and setting the knife down on the cutting board, "Sorry, about that. Fount of useless information. Sometimes I forget not everyone is as fascinated by minutia as me."

Spencer let out a mute chuckle and smiled broadly causing his already stark facial features to sharpen further, "Not a problem. Normally, that's my job. I have a tendency to over explain."

Ashlyn relaxed a bit and went back to the tomatoes, "When someone asks you what time it is you tell them how to make a watch."

"I'm more likely to tell them the history of it."

They both laughed.

"Hand me the salad bowl… Thanks." Ashlyn tossed the remainder of the salad makings together. "Here," she handed Spencer the bowl, "take this and go on and have a seat. I'll bring the rest out."

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"This is wonderful." Gooey cheese hung from his fork as he lifted another portion of manicotti to his lips.

"Thanks. I don't often have an excuse to cook proper meals, let alone share them with people."

Chuckling, "I think I live on leftovers and take-out,"

"Ah, student food."

"Is it?"

Ashlyn cocked an eye at him trying to decide if her companion was joking with her or not. "Well, that or top ramen."

"Yeah, I remember top ramen and cup o' noodle. Not that you could actually call them nourishment, but the carbs kept you going."

"Still keeps some of us…," she allowed herself a small chuckle. "I guess take-out is an upgrade and it makes sense if you're always on-call."

Spencer eyed Ashlyn, not sure what she was getting at. "I've never heard it referred to as 'on-call'. It's an appropriate parallel though."

Giving up on tack she dove in head first, "So, are you ever going to tell me what it actually is that you do? Or should I start guessing?"

Spencer had been dreading this moment. He had no idea how she would react and his incredible mind offered no shortage of unpleasant options. Gulping he aimlessly stabbed at his empty plate, "I'm a criminal profiler."

"Really?"

He barely nodded, too anxious to look at her or speak.

"Wow. That's impressive. Federal or local?"

"Um, Federal." Surprise covered Spencer's face as he looked up and saw genuine interest in Ashlyn's eyes and not one hint of disgust.

"FBI? No, wonder you came down to check on me." Ashlyn shock her head, "You really do tilt at windmills." Eyeing her guest closely her brain did the math, "Hold on, when did you graduate?"

"I was 15 when I got my first Ph.D."

Ashlyn almost choked on her soda, "First? How many do you have?"

"Three."

"And you were 15, Jesus, that's… remarkable."

Spencer took a sip of his drink. He wanted to ask Ashlyn about their first meeting, about the scream, the 'nightmare', but the last thing he wanted to do was offend her. Then again she had broached the subject, however briefly. After taking another contemplative sip, " I was wondering if I could ask about the other night?"

Ashlyn smiled sheepishly, "I truly am sorry about that. And like I told you then, it was just a dream, well more a nightmare really. No big deal."

Reid was quiet for a moment as he studied his companion. "I know about nightmares."

Silently, Ashlyn got up and began to clear the table. She was thinking about her 'dreams' and what caused them and what Spencer must have gone through as a child. It made her even more ashamed of her own problems in that area. She was leaning on the counter next to the sink when Spencer joined her. "Do you ever dream about your childhood? You know the things that the other kids did to you?"

A true sadness crept over Spencer and his eyes sullenly slipped to the floor, "Of course I do." The acknowledgement was just above a whisper. It wasn't a topic he liked to think about, let alone talk about.

Realizing an intense conversation was coming, Ashlyn moved to sit on her plush sofa, and indicated that Spencer should do the same.

Ashlyn sat facing Reid, one leg bent under the other with her hands holding the bent leg tightly. A position Spencer recognized immediately as a subconscious defense.

Letting out a troubled breath, Ashlyn quietly spoke, "I have a problem with kids. Terrified of them actually." Her eyes were locked on her hands much the way Spencer's had been to the floor only moments before.

She waited for the laughter. They always laughed. She understood why- a grown woman with a fear of children was hard to take seriously.

But Spencer didn't laugh; he moved closer to her and placed a warm hand on hers. "What did they do?"

With that simple question Ashlyn's eyes filled with tears and as she spoke they began to shed. "Probably the same things they did to you. Beatings, humiliations, and when you went to the adults, the people who were supposed to protect you, they tell you that you deserve it for not fitting in and label you the trouble-maker…" Her breath was becoming ragged and she paused attempting to steady it.

The psychologist in Spencer couldn't help but noticed how her tenses kept floating back to the present rather than the past, showing just how close to the surface those 'old' wounds were.

"There wasn't anyplace safe for me; except the libraries. But eventually they even took that away." She tried to smile as she looked up and met Spencer's deep brown eyes, "Guess that's why I'm studying to be a librarian- it's still the safest place."

Reid couldn't help it, he understood too much and too deeply what Ashlyn felt and he realized that he could do for her what he'd so often longed for in his childhood. Leaning forward, he wrapped his long arms around her muttering soothing words as he stroked her hair.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapt 8: Strong Enough

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She wasn't sure how long they sat there, his arms protectively around her and hers looped so that her hands gripped his shoulders. She merely relished the comfort Spencer brought and was in no hurry to relinquish it anytime soon, even though she knew she would have to.

As if reading her mind he tightened his hold on her. He hadn't realized how strongly he needed to share the pain with someone, to physically feel that he wasn't alone. He couldn't remember when he wanted or felt he needed anything this badly.

So he held her and she held him, each wanting and needing nothing more then the safety and companionship the other freely offered.

Eventually they broke their embrace, though hands lingered on shoulders and backs before resting in one another. Shy glances briefly exchanged before Ashlyn found her voice.

"Coffee. I think we need some coffee."

"Mind if I…" Spencer pointed toward the bathroom.

"No, help yourself."

After setting the coffee in motion, she went to her small stereo, rummaged for a CD and turned it on quietly. She hoped she'd have enough time to listen to it before Spencer came back. She needed to hear the song; to get it out of her head. She began to hum as it played, trying not to sing along just in case he did return.

_Walking through the empty rooms_

_The halls and lawns where children used to play_

_I can write the story-line_

_From secrets of the past_

_Looking through the doom and gloom_

_The chapel where you bent your knees to pray_

_I can feel a heart resigned_

_From love that's meant to last_

_Now I know what you've been through_

_The tears you've tried to hide_

_Let me prove my trust in you_

_I'll stand right by your side_

Ashlyn managed not to sing but she couldn't hold back the tears. When the song had finished she looked around cautiously to see if Spencer had returned; upon seeing that he hadn't she quickly hit repeat, hoping to hear it once more.

Unfortunately, to her way of thinking, Spencer chose that moment to reappear. He was about to alert her to his presence when the words spilling from her stereo registered.

_Will my arms be strong enough_

_To take you through the night_

_Will my arms be strong enough_

_To lead you to the light_

_Will my arms be strong enough_

_To dare you seize the day_

_Could it be love that gives the strength_

_To wash our sins away_

_Come and leave the past behind_

_Tonight we're on a journey to the stars_

_I have seen the promised sign_

_Where angels fear to fly_

Taking in her stature and body language, he decided to wait, watch, and listen. The song was beautiful; he could see why she was listening to it.

When it ended, she turned off the stereo confirming Reid's suspicion that she hadn't wanted to be observed.

Now, he spoke up, "That was beautiful," was all he said.

Ashlyn turned at his voice, flushing brightly at being caught, but she put up a good front. Smiling hesitantly, "Yeah, it makes me feel less lonely sometimes." As she moved back into the kitchen, "Coffee's ready."

Spencer joined her as she poured up the dark liquid. "Ashlyn, this, tonight was really great. Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

She carefully sipped her coffee, "I'd like that."

They reestablished themselves on the couch and spent the next few hours picking each other's brain and relaxing from the emotional outpour of earlier. When they finally parted company it was with reluctance and a less than chaste kiss… and the knowledge that tomorrow dinner would be at Spencer's.

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A/N: Just giving proper kudos- "Will My Arms be Strong Enough" -Bodies Without Organs- _Halcyon Days_-2006


	9. Chapter 9

Chapt 9: Dining with Dreams II

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Back in his apartment Spencer's head was spinning. It had been one of the most intense nights of his life and considering his chosen profession there were many intense nights to chose from. He could still smell Ashlyn's scent all around him, though whether it was real or his memory playing delightful tricks with his senses he couldn't be sure. What's more, he didn't care.

Sleep was doomed to be a questionable state given his current mind set, nevertheless, he went through the motions. As he lay awake, his thoughts spiraled through the nights events and the possible events of tomorrow. Eventually, his body's need for rest won out over his speeding brain.

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Blissfully the hours leading up to their dinner date passed swiftly; at least they did once Spencer worked out what they'd be eating. He opted for something relatively safe- chicken, it was less cliché than steak and more formal than either his or Ashlyn's standard fare.

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Their meal progressed smoothly much as it had the previous evening, save for the emotional breakdown- an omission both were happy to allow. They made carefree small-talk, discussing film continuity as a lost art, the loss of hard-copy card catalogues, his work as a profiler, hers in research, and whether or not anchovies really belonged on pizza.

Eventually, as they nursed tea on Spencer's couch, the conversation turned to more personal topics.

"So, how is it that someone like you winds up spending their weekend with a library student?"

Spencer flushed imperceptibly, "It's a much more entertaining and pleasant option than either of my usual weekend activities." He'd been referring to being alone or tracking down psychos, but as he heard himself speak, he knew it came out wrong. He avoided looking directly at Ashlyn for fear of her reaction. It was the first time since she had asked him to dinner that he'd felt truly uncomfortable around her.

She must have noticed something because she laid a hand on his thigh and squeezed. "Hey, I didn't mean to hit a sore spot." She exhaled softly considering the best tactic to absolve the situation. "I just can't understand why someone as beautiful, intelligent, and charming as you doesn't…" her voice trailed off as she felt Spencer's eyes turn on her.

"Doesn't, what?" He took her hand in his.

Ashlyn stared intently at their interlocking hands. So intently in fact that she didn't realize she'd begun to answer him, "…doesn't have… …someone."

Spencer almost laughed- it was more a depreciating chortle. "Freak. Creepy. At best awkward and weird. That's the kind of reactions I've always gotten, even from my friends."

That made her jump. "But.." her confused and mystified eyes were boring into his, "those are things that make you fascinating and attract me to you. You know so much. You notice so much. You're remarkable." Her head ducked down, "You noticed me," she said barely above a whisper.

Cupping her soft face in his hands, he brought her head up and kissed her. Pulling back from the tender kiss he asked, "How could I not?"

Ashlyn knew what she wanted and hoped Spencer wanted it, too. Gulping audibly she slid her hands around his waist as she spoke, "It's been a long time."

She waited anxiously as looks of bewilderment, concern, and eventual understanding passed in rapid succession across Spencer's features.

Suddenly, Spencer found himself incredibly nervous. He needed to say something, more importantly, he wanted to, but he had yet to figure out how.

He pursed his lips, his eyes seemed to narrow slightly and still manage to flare as he confided, "I'm a bit lacking in that area myself."

Half of him expected Ashlyn to recoil. What he wasn't expecting was the vehemence with which she reacted.

Her green eyes ignited as she pulled him to her, lips pressing firmly to his.

His hands flowed over her, mapping every curve, angle, flat and valley of her body, while hers mirrored his actions. Their kiss was deep and passionate, lips pressed hard together, tongues tasting and exploring their new surroundings. They finally broke the kiss, foreheads pressed against each other as heavy breaths passed between them. Ashlyn was in his lap, one hand clutching the nape of Spencer's neck, the other resting on his chest fingering the uppermost buttons of his shirt. No words were exchanged, just the heat of their bodies and the fire in their eyes.

As Ashlyn pulled back their eyes locked and she released her grip on his neck. Her hands reached for the base of her shirt and in one swift motion sent it off over her head.

She felt Spencer's warm long fingered hands caressing her back, hesitant and wanting. He tugged her close and the shared another heavy, heartfelt kiss.

Though their pulses rushed , they didn't. They felt, touched, breathed, explored, and enjoyed each other slowly. As the time slipped away the obstacles between their skin did as well.

Spencer now lay on top of her, flesh to flesh, save for the few undergarments not yet discarded. He raised up getting off the couch and held out his hand to her. She took it lovingly and he led Ashlyn to his bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapt 10: Revealing a Fantasy

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Ashlyn sat herself down on the edge of Spencer's bed, still holding his hand. She hauled him to her and down onto the bed. Warm familiar lips brushed against hers, sending tiny shock-waves rocketing through her body. Then the lips were gone, moving to her cheek, down her neck, to settle restlessly against the hot flushed flesh at her breasts.

Spencer made surprisingly quick work of removing her bra; allowing those restless lips access to their desire. Ashlyn's nipple was already attentive and hard when he tenderly kissed it getting a feel for her response. His moist tongue swept circles over the sensitive area causing her to arch into him and moan with pleasure.

One hand clawed softly at Spencer's exposed back. The other threaded through his hair, and with every moan he elicited from her the hand tightened.

A low scream of pleasure escaped her as Spencer sucked her nipple hard into his mouth. As he rose up to kiss her, breathlessly she asked, "Are you sure?"

Spencer stared into her deep green eyes giving her all the answer she needed.

Rolling them both over, she straddled him and resisted the urge to grind into him- she made herself focus- she wanted and needed to please Spencer, but slowly… she wanted it to last. Her hands ghosted over his bare chest taking care to avoid direct contact with his aroused nipples. A whimsical grin lit Ashlyn's face as Spencer gasped and writhed beneath her.

Before kissing him, she ran a hand over his face and was thrilled when his tongue lashed out at her fingers as they crossed his lips.

This kiss was gentle, slow, and deep. The hands on Ashlyn's hips pulled her down.

She didn't fight it, but she guided her thrusts in counter clockwise motions, driving them both to the edge before suddenly stopping and holding her hips just out of contact drawing a pained whimper from her lover.

Pulling out of the kiss, she began slowly descending his body raining kisses from his jaw to his chest and finally arriving at his exquisite nipples.

The moan Spencer released almost stopped her cold but the hand laying encouragingly on her head told her she should continue. She kissed his nipple; grazing it lightly with her teeth as she released it to flick the erect nub with her tongue. Spencer rewarded her with another erotic gasp.

Realizing that prolonging the exquisite torment probably wasn't the best thing for Spencer, she reluctantly gave up the tantalizing morsel and continued her downward exploration of his body.

As she slid gracefully off the bed she took the last vestige of Spencer's propriety with her. Caressing his legs, she first ran her hands up the outer sides to his hips, then back down the tops of his thin thighs, and finally along his inner muscles. The gasps and moans and hitching breaths Spencer involuntarily released at her touches were threatening to break her resolve. With her hands once again at his hips she leaned in and licked him.

Spencer's hands clawed at the arms holding him, hips trying to thrust for more as his body shuddered from the sensation. His convulsions only intensified as Ashlyn swirled her tongue around his tip, then glided it along the flesh edges before quickly zigzagging her tongue down his sensitive underside. Spencer failed to halt the cry of pleasure when her tongue reach the base and slowly lapped its way back up to his flushed tip. When she sucked his head into her mouth, Spencer froze.

Calmly, Ashlyn extended her arm so her hand rested reassuringly above his elbow. Instinctively, Spencer clutched her arm and his body slowly calmed.

All the while Ashyln worked her mouth with small squeezing and sucking motions- she'd give him more once she was sure he was ready.

The hand gripping her arm began to caress more than grab and Ashlyn knew she could proceed. She began stroking him with her tongue and steadily took more and more of him into her mouth.

With every intake Spencer moaned harder and more erotically than before. He'd never felt anything like this. He'd imagined, of course- he may be a genius but he was still human. Even so, his dreams and fantasies never would match this feeling. His body felt electrified, tense, and numb all at the same time. It was almost too much, yet he wanted more. More of the wonderful things this woman was making him feel, more of the feel of the woman above him, more of her touch, her heat, her voice, her tenderness, just MORE.

The warm moist haven of Ashlyn's mouth had eagerly encased him, her tongue and teeth teased and played along him. To her delight, Spencer subconsciously began gently thrusting into her. Steady at first but it wasn't long before his body was moving erratically out of need and desire. Taking as much of him as she could, she softly purred at the back of her throat.

The smooth vibrations were all it took to send Spencer over the edge. With a body wracking shake and a guttural cry, Ashlyn's mouth filled with salty liquid; she timed her swallows as best she could with Spencer's spasms as she took down the liquid. Tensing her mouth, she squeezed at regular intervals as she pulled off of him taking the last burst of cum with her as he slipped from between her lips.

Spencer's breath was still coming in ragged spurts as she turned to kiss and nuzzle the hand running through her hair before climbing back onto the bed next to her lover.

Spencer wrapped an arm around her, holding her to him as Ashlyn rested her head on his flushed chest and ran her hand over his beautiful face.

They lay there for a few moments reveling in the soft comfort of each other.

Slowly, gently, Spencer stroked Ashlyn's skin as he began to roll her over onto her back.

Calmly, she took his hand in hers, kissed the long elegant fingers, and shook her head 'No'. Before Spencer could react she whispered one word, "Sleep."

He stared into the deep pools of green, realizing full well that she was right. "Here?" he croaked, fearful of the answer.

She merely stared back at him, smiling. Then lacing her fingers in his pageboy locks, she pulled him down to her for a passionate and tender kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapt 11: Awaking a Dream

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Ashlyn threw herself upright; fists balled, arms crossed protectively in front of her ready to fight off the next blow. Suddenly she felt arms encircle her from behind as hands fought to hold her struggling wrists. Warm air wafted across her ear. Slowly, as the air became sounds, the sounds became words, the words became broken sentences, she relaxed.

"It's alright. Ashlyn. You're alright. Shh, Ashlyn, shh. I'm here. You're not alone. You're safe."

His gentle voice soothed her and as the tension left her body he released his grip on her wrists, lacing his fingers of one hand with hers, while brushing the sweat and tear soaked hair from her face with the other.

Spencer. She was with Spencer. As the reality sunk in she turned to lean into the crook of his neck, letting his heat seep into her, replacing cold terror with warm comfort.

Ashlyn could hear herself mutter, "I'm sorry," over and over again mixed with Spencer's tender and soothing words.

Spencer held Ashlyn close rocking them both as she calmed and their heart-rates returned to normal.

Eventually, her muttering stopped and Ashlyn was able to speak sensibly again. "Guess you're not allowed to get a peaceful night's sleep with me around," she tried to joke away the underlying truth of her statement.

Depreciatingly, he shook his head. Growing more serious, "I wouldn't change it. It's nice to be there for someone who's still alive."

Ashlyn couldn't suppress her chuckle when Spencer realized what he'd said.

His entire body cringed, "Sorry. That wasn't very comforting, was it."

"Actually, it was," she replied as she ran a hand over his lightly stubbled face. "It was honest, a bit unorthodox maybe, but words from the heart often can be."

Straying from his face her hand absently traced over Spencer's bare chest. Her touch enticed a soft coo from her lover. Kissing his neck where her head was still nuzzled, in a whispered voice she sheepishly asked, "Would you be interested in finishing what we…"

The rest of her question was swallowed by Spencer's mouth as it covered hers.

As they kissed, Spencer eased her comfortably back into the bed. A soft whimper escaped her when Spencer's lips left her eager mouth and moved down her neck. He nipped at the sensitive area where neck meets collar bone, while his long fingers feathered over her body awakening every nerve and sensation. His tongue teased down between her breasts to stop just short of their base to place a tender kiss softly on either breast.

Ashlyn's shallow breath grew even more haggard with each touch and each expectation of the next.

Cupping her breasts he squeezed gingerly, coaxing a pleasant moan and arch of Ashlyn's back. As one hand continued to work her right breast, his other was busy running sensual circles over and around the opposite nipple.

Writhing with ecstasy under his touch, Ashlyn gripped and pulled at Spencer's bedding as if afraid that doing so to him could end the heavenly dream she was living. "More…" it was more of a mouthed plea than a whispered one.

Spencer obligingly increased his efforts as he simultaneously tried to marshal his own body- he wanted to extend the erotic torment for them both.

The hand that had been attending her breast was swiftly replaced by his lapping tongue, allowing him to roam further down her curvaceous naked body. Graceful fingers offered more sensual caresses to her smooth thighs which welcomingly parted in anticipation.

Ashlyn's mind was lost, sensations overwhelmed her and an eerie calm took over her body. She was Spencer's, completely and totally- the proverbial putty in his hands.

A low rattling moan came from Ashlyn as Spencer's agile hand swept over her swath of pubic hair. Pleased with her reaction he tore himself from her nipple to see her face.

It was all she could do to keep from crying upon seeing the care and love so pure on his expressive features. Instead, she found the strength to hold him to her as she kissed him with more need and hunger than she, herself, thought she possessed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapt 12: Dreaming Reality

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The power behind Ashlyn's kiss shocked Spencer so that he almost lost his hold on himself. Snaking his hand back to the luscious spot, he massaged her and as her lower lips parted he got his first feel of the warm flesh.

For a moment their tongues stopped battling as Ashlyn's breath left her body in a tumultuous rush, but as Spencer urged her silently with his touches her enthusiasm quickly returned. Spencer experimentally tickled her clit and Ashlyn threw her head back, finally breaking their impassioned kiss. she moaned as her body rippled and thrust up towards Spencer's heavenly touch, begging for his entry.

Her thrusts and moans had the desired effect, and Spencer allowed his middle finger to explore her.

Hands that had been too scared before, now clawed at Spencer's exposed back wantonly, but he resisted the temptation to let go. He slowly and carefully mapped and explored the entrance to her body. _Soft, warm, wet, my god, so beautiful._ Spencer had to steady his breathing when her inner muscles tightened on the single digit; he felt his erection jump hard at the sensation on it's surrogate. He wasn't sure how far he could hold out before his body's more primal instincts took over.

Ashlyn whimpered loudly when he eased his finger out of her, only to gasp harshly when he replaced it, adding a partner. When her body tightened and convulsed as he moved them inside her, he knew he was lost. He gently removed the fingers while he whispered to her his voice heavy and husky, "I need you… now."

Her desperate whimper at the loss was mollified by the knowledge that he would be in her next. The mere thought sent Ashlyn's heart speeding as it had the night they first met, but for drastically different and delightful reasons.

Spencer positioned himself between Ashlyn's spread legs, feeling the heat radiate off of her. Slowly, leaning into her he entered her. Mirrored moans rang through the bedroom as they finally became one.

Ashlyn wrapped her strong legs around Spencer's waist, their hands instinctively intertwined, and lips and tongues locked.

Gingerly, Spencer began to move inside her causing unintelligible, yet erotic, sounds to come from them both.

Ashlyn's internal muscles gripped him and she moved in counter-time to his rhythm. "My god," ragged breath broke her words, "I can… feel you… feel… every twitch… vein… pulse… from the in… …side out."

As they rocked and pressed to each other, Spencer strained to memorize every touch, every ripple, every muscle, every aspect of how her body felt inside. Through his own building release, he noted Ashlyn's breathing begin to hitch, her movements become slightly more erratic and urgent.

"Ashlyn… I can't…"

"Then don't."

Spencer thrust intently and her body squeezed harder, "Oh, yes… just…"

Every stroke Spencer made was rewarded with Ashlyn clamping tighter and tighter on him.

She screamed his name as her entire form was wracked with pleasure and her orgasm flooded her and the sheets.

With the death grip Ashlyn's body had on him, the ripples of her muscles as she spasmed through her orgasm was all it took to send Spencer to completion as well. His release inside her sent another torrent of ecstasy through both their bodies.

Spencer collapsed on top of her. Her arms wrapped protectively and possessively around him.

As they lay together, sweaty and oh, so, fulfilled exchanging soft kisses, they gradually let sleep take them, knowing that neither would be alone in their dreams for a very long time.


End file.
